


Rosy-Cheeked

by blanketed_in_stars



Series: 12 Days of Shipmas [5]
Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: I'm Sorry Tolkien, M/M, Snowball Fight
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-16
Updated: 2015-12-16
Packaged: 2018-05-07 02:31:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5440181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blanketed_in_stars/pseuds/blanketed_in_stars
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I’ll forgive you,” Merry yells as they run up Bagshot Row, “if it was an accident.”</p><p>“An accident?”</p><p>“Say you were aiming for Lotho Sackville-Baggins,” Merry suggests, “or better yet, Lobelia.”</p><p>Pippin hops over a low hedge, yanking his scarf out of the branches just in time. “But I was aiming for you!”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rosy-Cheeked

Winter in the Shire puts Pippin in what Merry calls a “devilish mood.” When he’s feeling more charitable he calls it “mischievous.” But Pippin, sitting in a snow-craggy vee in the branches of the Party Tree, thinks that Merry could do with some mischief, or even some devilry. He takes careful aim and throws.

The snowball collides with Merry’s quilt-coated back. He turns with wide eyes and a cry of warning.

Pippin ducks out of sight and drops down the other side of the Party Tree, hidden by the thick trunk—but the ice at the roots makes him slip, and he stumbles out of his cover. One look at Merry’s expression is quite enough to get him off and running.

“I’ll forgive you,” Merry yells as they run up Bagshot Row, “if it was an accident.”

“An accident?”

“Say you were aiming for Lotho Sackville-Baggins,” Merry suggests, “or better yet, Lobelia.”

Pippin hops over a low hedge, yanking his scarf out of the branches just in time. “But I was aiming for you!” He flashes a grin over his shoulder. “I got you, too.”

“Got me,” Merry scoffs. From the spray of snow on Pippin’s legs, he’s close. “The only thing you’ve got is too much free time.”

“It’s only too much if you can’t think of anything to do.” Pippin reaches the Water and skids across, windmilling his arms to keep his balance. “I can think of plenty!” He scrambles up the bank on the other side and looks around for Merry—

But there’s no one. Pippin turns. “Merry?”

He feels a freezing cold snowball explode into the back of his head and wheels around, floundering, to see Merry roaring with laughter and running at him, packing another snowball as he comes.

Without thinking, Pippin runs back the way he’s come, but the incline of the riverbank is too steep, and when he reaches the river itself, his feet fly out from under him and he lands face-down in the snow. He hears Merry approaching and flips himself over, trying to get back on his feet—

“Not so fast!” Merry says, sitting on Pippin’s stomach and holding him down. “You need to pay for what you’ve done.”

“What a sore loser,” Pippin huffs. He struggles, but there’s rather a lot of hobbit on top of him and there’s really nowhere to go, anyways. “Fine, you win today. Now let me up.”

Merry grins. “I don’t think so. You can’t go anywhere looking like that, they’ll think you’ve turned into a snowman.” He reaches out with a gloved hand and brushes away the snow covering Pippin’s face. “There. My goodness, but you’re rosy-cheeked today.”

“If I am, it’s your fault!” Pippin says, feeling himself turn an even deeper red. “Chasing me all over Hobbiton—”

“You got yourself into this,” Merry tells him sternly, but he’s smiling. “You always do.”

Their breath makes clouds between them. As Merry leans closer, Pippin thinks perhaps he’s not the devilish one after all.


End file.
